Warning, this will be a long post!!!!!! If you just want to see artwork,please scroll down. Whoa! where do I begin!? well, I'll pick up where I left off last week. When I last posted, I was barely functioning with very little sleep. I was rushing to meet me Jingle Belle deadline, which I would not have been able to extend due to my flight the next day. But I beat that motherfucker and delivered my work on time! Then it was off to do laundry and pack. Before that, though, I realized that I majorly fucked up. The main purpose for me being in LA was to attend Paul Dini's wedding reception in Big Sur, CA. Now, me being a man who lapses in reason from time to time, I assumed that Big Sur was near Burbank (Paul's home turf). I had plans to attend this thing, then run out and party with Jim and Dave again. Well I decided to google Big Sur, and found that it was five hours north of L.A. Fuck. I didn't want to make any changes to my flight since I wasn't sure if I could make that trip. I felt shitty. I HAD to go to Paul's party. The dude has done so much to help me out, it would be a bit of a dis (though unintentional) if I was in Cali and didn't go to see him. I figured I'd deal with this as it got closer to the date (smaaart fuckin move, dumbass!) I took off for LA on Wednesday. Had a layover in Denver, where I went upstairs (to the smoker's lounge where I could---- riiight!) I sketched a little, had a couple beers,and watched about 20 minutes of the World Series (South Side in the place!!!) I didn't really feel like sketching much. I guess I was just burnt. Jim and his neighbor The Dude picked my up from the Bob Hope Airport in Burbank. We went to this dope gallery show in East L.A.
This man accosted Jim and I while we were eating. The next day was pretty chill. Jim took me around town, to Meltdown Comics and Amoeba records. I was finally able to score a copy of the Jingle Belle trade at Meltdown. I named some tunes at Amoeba, alond with that Diggin documentary. I avoided looking at the wax (I think I saw a the first Digable album for pretty cheap) since it would just be heartbreaking to find something that I wanted and have no way to get it home. Fack. Later that night, my buddy Zack came out to party with us. He brought me a cake (that I never got to eat). Jim, The Dude, Zack and I went to the Root Down at a spot called The Little Temple. This place is legendary, and I was excited I had a chance to check it out. Great music, beautiful women and friends. Dave and Kelly kicked it with us as did Felipe and Frantz (did I spell that right?) came out to and it was great seeing them. I miss all those folks. At the end of the night, I saw Madlib just chilling at the bar. Then I saw him and PB Wolf waiting in line to either get a hot dog or get their ride from the valet. And the were talking about some girl. Zack and Felipe at the Root Down.

The next day (friday) was the day of Dave's birthday celebration. We went to a thai restaurant where they allow you to bring your own alcohol. Zack showed up to that (after everyone had already eaten) Mark Smith was in the house, too. After the food, we went to some bar for a minute until most of the party decided to up and bounce. SOOOO, Jim, Dave, Kelly and mysizzle went to a strip (not really, though. There was no nudity, just the hot huns) We snuck in the leftover beer from Dave's dinner and doing so saved a fuckload of cash. From the cab ride back to Dave and Kelly's until I don't remember, Jim would call people and we'd leave drunken freestyles on their voicemails. Some big names in comics almost got some verse. Kat got four. (I wonder if any of those folks still talk to Jim after that night) I couldn't sleep well, so I went for an early morning stroll

The Cactus Dick was found in the men's bathroom of the Thai Restaurant

Saturday was to be my crazy day. And it was. A. Crazy. Fucking, Day. I decided what I was going to do (actually what I did the day before) was buy a new plane ticket (to fly out of Monterey) and rent a car. Zack was going to come with, but backed out since he had spent the previous three days moving. Plus he got fucked up the night before. Solo Road Trip!!! I wasn't really rocking the Whitesnake

I rented a car, mapquested the journey and took off. Now, normally I'm bad with long trips. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes open. I was wrong. The weather was perfect, the scenery absolutely gorgeous. I've never seen anything like it. It was like that shit, y'know, that shit you see on the TV. P.R and C.L's Main Ingredient created the PERFECT soundtrack to this. It's like the fuckin hills were nodding along to the lush sounds of Pete Rock. The first 2 1/2 hours just breezed by. I thought to myself ,"Shit! fuck that 5hrs bull. I'll get there in 4!". And for a minute it looked like that might be so. That was until I had to go from the 101 to CA-1. I was at about a half a tank when I passed the last gas station. I thought to myself I'd stop at the next station when I'm around a quarter tank. If I only knew. So, at about a hundred miles left to go (according to mapquest. pssshhhhh!), I come upon the long, isolated and winding roads of the mountains(hills?). 25mph speed limit (which is right) and sliding rock areas.

For miles. Like over a hundred miles. At first I was like "Cool! I'm driving on some movie/cartoon type shit.) It was getting dark, and I wondered if I was going to make this party. Which would suck if I missed it since a) That was the reason I was out west, b) I spent and extra $500 to get there from L.A. and c) I was to drive over three hundred miles to get there. Plus, I was running on empty without a gas station in sight. I was to be stranded on that road, miss my flight, and just plain fuck up my trip. Dammit. So, I'm still driving and according to the map I'm getting closer. I come upon a gas station (thank god!!!) It's an old fashioned shack without a credit card processor. All I have is 10 bucks. Gas is 4 bucks a gallon. But it's all good, since that 2 1/2 gallons should get me to the spot and to a gas station. Or at least the airport if I have to. I drive on. And I drive. And I drive. I drive to the point where I've past the mileage quoted by the map."Shit", I thought, "Did I pass it up?" I turn around. Most of the shops were closed (mind you it's around 7:30 PM) I did find a restaurant who's staff was able to help me. But even they weren't sure if the place they were thinking of was my destination. I take a chance since the path they mentioned was a small dirt road and the ranch was about two miles east. Oh, and for the past two hours I couldn't use my phone. Zero signal. So, If that road was not the right one I was going to head straight to the Monterey Airport. The road was narrow, winding, dark and somewhat steep. I come to a stop where a guy is standing near some cars. I ask if he knew where the Brazil Ranch is located. He asked if I was there for the party, then he said it's up the road. Yes. i fuckin made it. Once there, I had a good time. I felt out of place since I wasn't decked out in Country/Western gear. Grammy winning C&W band Rider's In The Sky performed the event. A good time was had by all and I was relieved. My phone still didn't work. The port-a-potties were hooked up with automatic lights and air conditioners! Freakin Fancy!

Riders in the Sky

Paul and the kids " We be gettin on down!"

After the party, I headed out to the airport. My plan was to wait at the there until my plane boarded (rather than get a hotel). Monterey Peninsula Airport was a bit of a sumbitch to find. The whole time I'm thinking how wack this town is, and how Chicago is a real city (no dis to Monterey. I was cranky at that point and just wanted to be home) I finally find the airport around 12:30 a.m.ish. I park the car, grab my shit and head to the terminal to return the rental keys and wait for my flight. This chick who worked the parking lot booth informed me that the airport had, in fact, closed and they won't open until 4am. What!? An airport closes!? I guess I'm too used to being near two international airports. Fuck!? What was I going to do? I needed to find a place where I could kill 3 hours. I drove back into downtown Monterey and everything was dead. I passed a Denny's which looked open, but I really didn't want to hang out there. I drove to the airport again and parked along one of the sidestreets. Staring at the clock. Wondering if I should fall asleep. Scared that I might miss my flight if I do. I said fuck it, kicked my seat back, threw The Main Ingredient into the cd player, turned on the heat (twas freezing), set the alarm on my phone to ring every half hour (my battery was low on that, too. I had no place to charge it.) and closed my eyes. My bed After about an hour's nap, I drove back into the parking area of the airport. I parked the rental in the return spot, and I repeated the same as I had done the hour earlier. I'd wake up every half hour, check the time, shut the alarm off and go back to sleep. Around a quarter to five a.m. I woke up. I grabbed my shit, locked the car and made my way to the terminal. The lights were on and the doors were open. It's very odd watching two people preparing an airport for daily operation. It's as if they were a mom n pop shop, turning on the lights, checking the alarm, making coffee. I sat waiting to check in, more towards the center of the facility. The doors were wide open and I was fuckin freezing my nuts off. Again, trying to kill time. Finally I was able to check in. I asked when Hertz was going to open so I could return the car and get that bull out of the way. They said they'd be open around 5 a.m. I was lost. Didn't I just wake up at a quarter to? I know I spent waay more than 15 minutes walking here and waiting. Then it dawned on me---- the clocks we're set back today. Damn. More waiting. The flight from Monterey to LAX was in a dinky ass plane. About as wide as an aisle on a normal jet. As soon as I took my seat, buckled in and all that goodness, I passed out. I din't wake up until we landed in L.A. The flight from L.A. to Chicago was in a humongous mofro. The shit was huge, and there's me, in the middle. Not a bad flight, I slept off and on. Back in Chicago, I grabbed my stuff, scored a mini pizza and took the Blue Line back to my car. I left my car in the company parking lot (for my job) and the whole way to I was nervous that it might've been towed or burgled. Nothin. Car was cool. Still something wasn't right.Hectic as it was, this trip suffered no real casualties. Odd. That's not how things go for me. I wanted some tunes to rock while I drove to the south side. I went to get my cd case from my bag. Gone. I check my luggage. Nothing. Double check my bag. Nothing. FUCK! I new it! I new it! It couldn't go without incident. Shiot! Oh well. I was able to score the rare stuff again from Dusty Groove. for about $60. Damn. I ran home, took a shower, raced to South Holland, grabbed Sara, drove back up north waited in line at the Congress, met Carl and Robin inside and got down to some live Jamiroquai. It was a great show, and they put on a long set. I was disappointed, though, that Jay Kay didn't come out dressed as Napoleon Dynamite for his opening song, "Canned Heat" It was Halloween Eve after all. He could've worn the vote for Pedro T-Shirt and done did the dance. Oh well. Good show anyway. Afterwards Sara, Robin, Carl and I went to a bar for a drink and a game of pool. I was exhausted. I had not slept much in the past month, and after the events of the past five days I was crispy. Sara drove back and I ended up passing out at her place. Shit. That was fun, but now I'm looking foward to resting up. I have a couple pieces to finish for others, but I can't help indulging in my own passions. That's why I'm currently working on a pair of Beastman stories I wrote between three and four years ago. I gots some samples for youse. Beastman is one of the oldest characters I have. made him up back in '89/'90

Layouts for Curses! Shackled Again!

This is a remake ofa story I did 9 years ago

I may be doing live art at the Black Beetle this Saturday 11/05/05. I'll get confirmation from Pickel tonight and post info tomorrow. Nothing too big, just some good music, drink, and paint. Also, I will be hosting a birthday party for the lovely Ms. Sara Krause at my apartment Saturday the 19th. Hit me up for more info!

Here's an old drawing I came across:

Ooh, and before I forget, Jim and Dave were doing posters for an Urb Magazine Halloween Party. They axed me to rock one of em.

Hope you're all still awake. Peace! I got a crook in my neck, and it's stealin everythang! Jose

and of course, all images on this page are © 2005 Jose Garibaldi. Nothing can be reproduced without me saying you can...